And I've Got No Defense For It
by blue252
Summary: "She's humming Sinatra and the sound of it mixes together with the ocean to form a song all it's own. Witchcraft and Summer Wind and suddenly she's under his skin in ways he'll never find adequate words for because Kate Beckett is exquisite." Oneshot. Small spoilers for 6x15.


_AN: This idea is based off of a small spoiler from the 6x15 sneak peek but doesn't really relate to the episode otherwise that I know of. _

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**_and i've got no defense for it_**

The night is alive around them. He absorbs it all; the crash of waves, the sand underneath his feet, the feel of her hand folded within his, and the way the summer sky spills infinite above. He could spend forever with her out here, tracing constellations across her skin, painting stories with the words that bubble up effortlessly in the haze of whiskey and wine. Her body cants toward his or maybe it's his toward hers. It's hard to tell with the way they're drawn together, footsteps following a path back toward his house, just on the side of tipsy where everything feels heightened, electricity in the air.

She's humming Sinatra and the sound of it mixes together with the ocean to form a song all it's own. _Witchcraft_ and _Summer Wind_ and suddenly she's under his skin in ways he'll never find adequate words for because Kate Beckett is exquisite. So many parts of her are still a mystery and it's not because he doesn't know her better than he's ever known anyone - _he_ _does_. But because every time he thinks he's uncovered another layer, she amazes him all over again, pulls him deeper still. It's magic and he can't wrap his mind around it, only knows that he'll spend the rest of his life trying.

She tugs gently at his hand and he stumbles forward, completely unaware that he'd stopped amidst the thoughts swimming in his head. She smiles then. It's a little wider than usual, free and uninhibited, wide eyes that suddenly take in the same surroundings he's been cataloguing since they left the karaoke bar. And then he knows that she feels it too, the lazy heat lingering in the air between them. He likes this side of Beckett. He _really _likes it.

"You going to sing for me again, Castle?"

"If I do, does that mean I get a private show later?"

"Who says you haven't earned one already?"

Her eyes flash in the moonlight and he stops once more, mouth dropping open. When she glances back at him over her shoulder it's all too reminiscent of the way she looked an hour earlier, sultry and singing _that sly come-hither stare_. He really is defenseless against this woman, unarmed in ways he's never been before.

"Beckett, if I'd known all it would take to get you on stage were whiskey shots and a bottle of red, I'd have installed a karaoke machine at the Old Haunt years ago."

She laughs at that, lets go of his hand to skip forward, a silent challenge for him to chase after. He follows willingly as she darts through the sand, the sound of her laughter ringing in his ears. In the moment, he feels eighteen again, leaving bars with his college buddies, the night young and full of anticipation for the hours ahead. But this – somehow this is even better.

He catches her from behind, spinning them both around for a second before he presses his mouth against the shell of her ear. "On second thought, I think I'd rather have you all to myself."

She turns in his arms, can't quite mask the flush on her face when she faces him again. "What's wrong, Rick? Worried Chief Brady might steal your thunder?"

"What?! No way. It's going to be years before I can listen to "I Fought the Law" without getting horrible flashbacks." He shudders. "Besides, I know you can't resist old blue eyes."

"Emphasis on the _old_," she teases, poking him in the side.

"Harsh, Beckett. You wound me."

"Hmm, I'm sure I can think of several ways to make it up to you." She whispers the words against his mouth, presses her lips against his. He opens to her immediately, allows himself to get lost in the feel of her kiss, lazy and warm and a little bit sloppy as the summer breeze drifts around them. His arms encircle her waist, hands sliding just underneath the loose tank top she's wearing. She hums at his touch, pulls back just enough to rest her cheek against his and suddenly he can't stop the words from spilling from him.

"_When the world is cold, I will feel a glow just thinking of you and the way you look tonight."_

It comes out more songlike than he really intended. Sometime later he'll blame the alcohol and the way her skin was literally glowing under the nighttime sky. But she doesn't make fun of him for it the way he expects, only sighs against his skin and holds him tighter. They sway a little as the wind gusts off the ocean and before he knows it she's murmuring the next verse right back to him. Her voice is soft, enchanting in a way he's never heard it before and his heart gets caught somewhere between _smile so warm_ and _there is nothing for me but to love you_.

She's said the words countless times before. He'll never forget the way they poured from her mouth the night she came to him drenched from the storm, body broken and heart on her sleeve, begging him for forgiveness. They healed him then, put them both back together with a strength they never had apart.

But now, hearing them sung so effortlessly, his mind flashes back to a night years ago – _all the songs make sense_ – and he thinks if the world were to end right this moment he'd be perfectly okay because it might just be the happiest he's ever felt.

He dips her down gently, speechless as the reflection of the water dances across her face; and then she rises again, hands coming to rest against his shoulders as they move together, slow circles in the sand.

"Is this how you treat all your girls in the Hamptons, Castle?"

Her words pull him out of his thoughts and he grins. "Oh yeah. Get them liquored up and serenade them with Frank. It's practically number one in my arsenal of ways to seduce women."

He laughs when she rolls her eyes, brings a hand up to frame her face, tilting her chin with his thumb. He waits until she meets his eyes again before leaning in to her kiss her, slow and thorough this time. He speaks with the slide of his tongue against hers, with his fingers tangled in her hair; devastating them both with a barely contained passion that has him wishing they were already in his backyard, tucked away from the public where he could prove to her repeatedly just how much he loves her with the roll of his hips and the exploration of his hands.

He pulls back breathless, heart racing as he rests his forehead against hers. "Only you, Kate. Always only you."

"Let's go home," she says, smiling as she kisses him one more time before reaching out to lace their fingers together. Then she's pulling him along after her again with a look that speaks enough to fill volumes.

And so he follows.


End file.
